


Beautiful in Tooth and Claw

by burglebezzlement



Category: Wynonna Earp (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Werewolf, CW: canonical levels of Champ being a dick, CW: non-life-threatening injury/accident, Dresses, Except Nicole, F/F, Hair Brushing, Hurt/Comfort, Nicole is new in town, Questions of ethics in paranatural research, Sharing a Bed, Underage Drinking, everyone is werewolves, initial Champ/Waverly, pageant, werewolf beauty pageant AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-01
Updated: 2016-08-19
Packaged: 2018-07-28 18:28:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 17,039
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7652089
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/burglebezzlement/pseuds/burglebezzlement
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nicole’s not a werewolf. She’s also new in town. Waverly’s still decided to be her friend.</p>
<p>Or: Everyone in the Ghost River Triangle is werewolves. A WayHaught werewolf high school AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

It’s lunchtime at Purgatory High. Waverly’s sitting at a table with Steph, who’s got her tongue down Mike’s throat and is ignoring the school-approved sandwich on the table. Champ’s watching them and making hopeful noises at Waverly, like he wishes Waverly would replace her sandwich with his tongue which, ew, no, not at lunch. 

Chrissy sits down next to Waverly. “Did you see that the new girl signed up for the pageant?”

Waverly pushes back her hair. “Who?”

“That Nicole chick. The one with the red hair.”

“Oh.” Waverly looks across the gym. “Yeah, I haven’t met her yet.”

“She’s not from around here,” Chrissy says.

“She’s new. How could she be?”

“No, like, I mean, she’s _not from around here_.”

Waverly moves her head, like, so? 

Chrissy leans closer. “She’s not _one of us_.”

“Oh.” Waverly sits back. “So she doesn’t —“

“Yeah, I don’t think so,” Chrissy says. “Nat says they changed for track and she was, like, huddled against the wall or something. And. Like. Still human.”

Waverly looks around the room again. She spots Nicole this time, sitting by herself at a table, hunched over a brown paper bag. 

“She looks lonely,” Waverly says, feeling impulsively sympathetic. “Hey, should we —“

Steph looks up from inhaling Mike’s tongue. “No. Stop befriending the weak, Waves.”

“I’m going to go say hi,” Waverly says, getting up from the table. “You guys can join me if you want to.”

She gets up, but everybody else stays seated. Chrissy’s got an apologetic expression. But she’s not going against Steph. 

“Whatever,” Waverly says, stuffing her half-eaten sandwich back into her lunch bag.

Nicole looks up when Waverly approaches. Her face is guarded, like she’s not sure what to expect.

“Hey,” Waverly says. “I’m Waverly Earp.”

“Nicole Haught.”

“Do you mind if I sit here?”

“Mind?” Nicole laughs. “Hey, I don’t see anyone else who wants to sit with the human.”

“Oh.” Waverly winces as she sits down. “Yeah, sorry about that… Purgatory can be a bit weird.”

“I’m getting that.” Nicole stares down at her sandwich, and then looks back up at Waverly. “So what do people do for fun around here? Other than morphing into wolves for gym class, I mean.”

Waverly’s uncomfortable, suddenly, because what, that’s weird all of a sudden? But hearing Nicole ask about it… Willa always did say people outside the Ghost River Triangle mostly haven’t even met a werewolf before. 

“It’s about the showers,” Waverly says. “The school’s too cheap to pay for locker rooms, and you don’t sweat as a wolf.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, really,” Waverly says. They end up spending lunch eating sandwiches and talking about evolution and sweat glands and how different animals cool themselves, which is not what Waverly expected to be talking about… but it’s nice, talking about something that’s not about who had the best kill last weekend and whether Champ’s thinking about cheating on her. Again.

* * *

The first pageant rehearsal is after school that afternoon.

Nicole’s sitting by herself in the auditorium, but Waverly waves her over, introduces her to Chrissy and Steph and the others. They’re nice enough once Nicole’s right in front of them. Chrissy even points out the pageant people — which mostly just means the organizer, Constance Clootie, a thin woman with perfectly straight hair and sharp, pointy heels.

Chrissy leans back in her seat. “We call her the Stone Witch,” she says, her voice low. “We’d call her something else, but the B word doesn’t exactly get you Miss Congeniality around here.”

Nicole looks confused. “Is that —“

“She’s messing with you,” Waverly says. “Nobody really wants Miss Congeniality.” 

Or at least that’s what Willa always said. _You’re not here to make friends, baby sister. You’re here to get out of Purgatory._

Not like the thousand-dollar scholarship is going to make or break Waverly’s college plans. But then Willa’s like that — focused on her own goals, to the exclusion of everyone else. Waverly’s always sad when Wynonna goes away for a while, but she doesn’t really miss Willa.

Waverly knows it’s stupid, signing up for a pageant that judges her on beauty, agility, and probably not much more. But it’s a junior-year tradition in Purgatory, just like senior year Prom and the Wolf Challenges for the freshmen.

“Ladies, your attention,” the Stone Witch says from the stage. “Welcome to the Miss Purgatory pageant. I am Constance Clootie, your pageant director. You may call me Ms. Clootie or ma’am.”

“Or Stone Witch,” Steph hisses. Chrissy giggles and then goes silent when the Stone Witch glares at them.

It’s pretty much what Waverly was expecting. They’ll need a ballgown, a talent, and light paws for the agility course. The agility course will be judged the afternoon before the main pageant this year, which is smart. Three years ago, the organizers tried doing it on the stage, but one of the contestants fell off the stage (Beth Waters — she always was a bit of a fumble-foot in wolf form) and anyway, there’s never enough time for the contestants to get their hair and makeup back in place after the shift.

It’s one thing for a few contestants to need to shift back to human form after their talents. Every contestant? Makeup madness. Waverly’s heard the stories, from Willa (who won Miss Purgatory, the year she participated) and Wynonna (who took place in the initial rehearsals because Gus insisted, but dropped out halfway through the actual pageant in disgust).

Waverly’s not sure where she’s going to come in. Maybe halfway between her sisters. There are worse places to be.

* * *

That weekend, Waverly invites Nicole to come hang with them Friday night, down at the old bridge on the creek just outside of town.

Champ brings a bottle of peach schnapps, because his cousin’s willing to buy him booze but thinks it’s funny to only buy him the shitty stuff. 

Nicole shows up a bit later. She and her dad live someplace in town — she mentioned it to Waverly — so she’s close enough to walk, even though it’s getting dark out.

It’s spring, but it’s still cold. Champ has his arm around Waverly’s shoulders and his lips roaming up and down her neck. Waverly can smell the schnapps on his breath as he moves up to her ear. She winces when he blows air into her ear. 

“Hey, human,” Champ says to Nicole, without looking away from Waverly.

Waverly elbows him, and Chrissy and Steph give her a sympathetic look. They’re willing to talk trash behind Nicole’s back, but they’re usually polite in front of someone’s face. (Usually.)

Nicole sits down on Waverly’s other side, awkwardly, and they start chatting about the pageant with Steph while Waverly tries to ignore Champ’s lips, trailing over her like two slugs. 

“This is boring,” Champ announces into the middle of a conversation about last year’s dresses. “We should heat this shit up.”

Waverly tries to pull away, but he’s keeping his arm around her. 

“I bet you don’t know what a wolf dive is,” Champ says to Nicole. There’s an aggressive edge in his voice.

“How would she?” Waverly asks.

Mike looks up. “Nobody but you cares about the wolf dives.”

“Yeah, because I’m the best at them.” Champ’s at that point of drunk where Waverly already knows he’s going to end the night either vomiting into the creek, or shifting into wolf form and stumbling off into the darkness on unsteady paws. 

Steph takes a pull from the bottle of peach schnapps and hands it back to Champ. “Maybe you should back that up with something, buddy.”

“This is a bad idea,” Chrissy says. 

Champ stands up, using Waverly’s shoulder to steady himself. “Watch me,” he says.

Nicole leans in to Waverly. “What’s a wolf dive?”

“Stupid shit,” Waverly says under her breath. “You have to stand on the bridge and jump into the creek, and change into your wolf form on the way down. If you’re still human when you hit the water, you lose.”

Waverly can’t see Nicole’s face in the near-darkness. “That’s… really weird,” Nicole says. 

“Yeah, well.” Waverly sighs. “Welcome to Purgatory.”

“Come on,” Champ says. He pulls Waverly up to her feet. “Let’s do this. First wolf jump of the year.”

“I’m good,” Waverly says. It’s freezing out and anyway, it’s been a dry year. The creek’s probably not even high enough to swim in right now.

“We’re doing this,” Champ insists. He’s still being weirdly aggressive towards Nicole. “Wolves mate for life, you know.”

Waverly tries to back off, gently, tries all her usual redirections that she uses when Champ gets like this.

He’s not _always_ like this. Sometimes he’s sweet, even. He brought her flowers last year, for no reason, and Chrissy and Steph are always reminding Waverly of how much he loves her.

“Come on,” he says, and Waverly softens a little.

“I’ll watch you jump,” she says. The creek’s probably freezing cold. Maybe it’ll sober him up a little.

“That’s my girl,” Champ says, and he pulls her in for a kiss. 

Waverly gives in and kisses back, which is why she doesn’t notice the way Champ’s shifting them towards the bridge until it’s too late, and he’s got her backed up against it. 

“We’re doing this,” he says, looking down at her. “Wolf dive with me, baby.” 

Waverly tries to shift but she doesn’t have enough warning — he’s pulling her over the metal railing after him. Down into the creek. She feels Champ’s skin shifting into fur under her hands and then she’s just falling, alone.

It’s an impossibly long moment, like time’s been frozen into crystal-like clarity. A moment of realization — _this is really happening, and it’s going to hurt like hell_.

Waverly’s human eyes register dim shapes, and she tries to twist her body, tries to shift into wolf form.

There’s a shock, a moment when she hits the water and the stones under the water at almost the same moment, and she’s out.

* * *

Nicole sees Champ pull Waverly over the bridge and freezes.

Around her, Stephanie and Chrissy are getting up, slowly, like this isn’t an emergency. But. Waverly just _fell off a bridge_.

Nicole shakes herself and then — she’s moving, she’s up, pulling the backup flashlight out of her pocket and thanking the gods that she thought to bring it. This was supposed to be casual, fun night with new friends. She wasn’t supposed to need any of Dad’s training.

There’s a rocky path down to the water underneath the bridge. Nicole’s heart feels like it skips a beat when her flashlight beam finds Waverly. 

She’s lying across the rocks, face-first, perfectly still.

Nicole doesn’t remember running the last few steps down. She knows you don’t move a victim after a trauma like this — she’s worried about Waverly’s spine — but Waverly is face down in the water and not moving and Nicole figures breathing is the first priority here.

 _If Waverly’s even alive._ Nicole stuffs that thought down and gently — gently — cradles Waverly’s neck with one hand while she rolls her out of the water with the other.

Waverly coughs, and spits up water.

“Don’t try to move,” Nicole says, keeping her hand on Waverly’s neck. Now that Waverly’s out of the water, her flashlight shows her that Waverly’s bleeding, and her shoulder looks messed up.

“She needs to shift into wolf form.”

Nicole looks up. Chrissy’s standing there, looking concerned, but not, like, super-worried, which seems weird to Nicole.

 _Maybe Champ does this every weekend,_ Nicole thinks, with a dull anger in the pit of her stomach. She can’t think about that now, though. 

“Once she’s shifted, it’ll be safe to move her,” Chrissy says. She crouches down next to Nicole and puts her hand on Waverly’s face. “Waves? Can you hear me? You need to shift.”

Waverly coughs again, a wet sound, and then shifts under Nicole’s hand. At first Nicole thinks she’s just turning over, but then there’s a moment where Waverly doesn’t seem to exist at all, and then there’s a wolf lying in front of Nicole.

A wolf with honey-brown fur, matted with blood.

“That’s better,” Chrissy says. “Can you help me carry her back to her car?”

“Is —” Nicole swallows. “Is it safe?”

“Well, she needs to get back to her Aunt Gus’s house before curfew,” Chrissy says.

Nicole can’t think of what to say to that. She just jumped off a bridge? No, she just got pushed off a bridge?

And that’s when a wet, snarling ball of fur runs up from the other side of the creek and slams into Nicole, knocking her down into the dirt and the rocks.

“Champ!” Chrissy’s got her hands on her hips. “Champ, you fucking turd-nugget, she’s trying to help. Which is more than your drunk ass can manage.”

The wolf — Champ? — snarls at Nicole again, but then another, darker wolf comes and slams its body into him, pushing him back into the creek. Champ nips at the other wolf, and then they’re chasing each other back up and out into the fields. 

“Idiots,” Chrissy says. She holds a hand out to Nicole and helps her up. “Come on, let’s get Waverly back up to her car before Champ decides to that he needs to help out again.”

Chrissy does most of the heavy lifting. She looks lanky, but she’s much more powerful than Nicole, even though Nicole did krav maga in the last town she and her father lived in, and still runs and lifts weights.

Once they get Waverly settled into the backseat of the Jeep, curled uncomfortably on the back seat on an old blanket, Chrissy borrows Nicole’s flashlight and goes back down to pick up Waverly’s clothing.

She throws Nicole the keys to the Jeep. “Can you drive her back? Steph’s out there riding herd on the boys right now, but she probably needs backup.”

“Yeah,” Nicole says, because presumably Waverly’s house comes with a responsible adult and right now seeking out a responsible adult seems like the best thing to do. She’s still not convinced by Chrissy’s reassurances that Waverly’s in wolf form and she’ll be able to sleep this off. 

Chrissy gives her directions to Waverly’s home, which Nicole hopes she can remember. 

And then Chrissy’s shifting herself, blurring from human into a wolf with brown fur and running off into the darkness.

She leaves a pile of clothing where she shifted. Nicole looks down at Waverly-the-wolf, and sighs.

_What the hell is it with this town?_

* * *

Nicole’s got the Jeep’s bright lights on, but the darkness outside of Purgatory is like nothing else she’s seen.

Her dad’s job means that they move a lot. Sometimes it’s the big city, or the jungle, or the side of a mountain, or an island at sea, or on one memorable occasion, a mining platform out at sea. (Nicole managed to sit that one out with her aunt, at least.)

But this — the rangeland outside of Purgatory, out in the mountains? There’s an emptiness about it that freaks Nicole out a little, even during the day.

It’s worse at night. But with Waverly in the back seat… Nicole squints into the darkness and keeps driving. 

She misses the last turn to the ranch three times, but eventually she manages to find it. There’s a light, for which Nicole thanks all the gods and angels who’ve ever watched over her. 

Nicole’s trying to lift Waverly-the-wolf, who’s snuffling in pain, when someone stalks out from the house. It’s a woman in dark jeans and a dark shirt and dark boots. Her hair falls loosely around her shoulders, and she walks like she owns the place. 

“Who are you, and what are you doing with my sister?”

Nicole jumps and lets Waverly go, back onto the seat of the Jeep. Waverly whines again, a low sound.

“Don’t you start,” the woman says to Waverly. She turns back to Nicole. “Who the hell are you?”

Nicole starts to put her hand out and then decides not to. “Nicole,” she says. “Nicole Haught? I’m friends with your sister?” She hopes she is, anyway. If she’s not friends with Waverly, she has no friends in Purgatory at all.

“And this is how you bring her home?” the woman asks, crouching over Waverly in the Jeep and gently stroking her fur. “What the hell happened?”

“Um… Champ. Champ happened.”

The woman’s expression goes furiously dark, and then clears as she looks up at Nicole. “Right. I’m Waverly’s sister, Wynonna.”

“Nice to meet you,” Nicole says, and then feels horrible. “I mean. Not under the circumstances.”

Wynonna looks at her face closely, and then takes a sniff before nodding. “You’re human, aren’t you? The regular kind, I mean.”

“Yeah,” Nicole says.

She doesn’t say anything else, about her father or why she’s been launched into her eighteenth new school since kindergarten. Wynonna doesn’t seem interested anyway — she’s bending down over Waverly and gathering her into her arms.

“Come on,” she says. She lifts Waverly like her weight is nothing. 

Nicole closes the door to the Jeep and follows her into the house and up the stairs to what has to be Waverly’s bedroom. This wasn’t how she imagined seeing it. It’s not what she expected — Waverly’s so outgoing, at school, but her room’s crammed with books. She has a big brass bed with a white ruffled comforter, which probably is going to be bloodstained now, since Wynonna sets her down on top of it. 

“Is she going to be okay?” Nicole asks.

Wynonna looks up from the bed. “Should be fine in the morning,” she says. “What the hell happened?”

Nicole’s not sure how to answer that. “Is there — are your parents around?”

“You’re really not from around here, are you?”

“I just — maybe someone should check her over,” Nicole says. 

“Our parents are dead or gone,” Wynonna says. “How do you know Waverly, again?”

“We’re both in the pageant,” Nicole says, feeling stupid.

“Waverly lives with Aunt Gus, who is currently at the Grange meeting,” Wynonna says. “But you can stop worrying, because Waverly’s going to be just fine.”

Nicole isn’t sure if she trusts the relief she’s feeling or not. Wynonna isn’t exactly her idea of a responsible adult, but… “You’re sure?”

“You haven’t spent much time around werewolves, have you?” Wynonna doesn’t wait for an answer. “Do you need a ride back to town?”

Nicole does. Kind of. But she’s not sure if she should leave Waverly. She’s not sure if she should let Wynonna leave Waverly alone long enough to drive her back to town, either. 

She looks down at Waverly — she can’t tell if she’s asleep or not, but her eyes are closed, and she’s breathing better, like it doesn’t hurt the way it did earlier.

“You could stay,” Wynonna offers. “Crash here for the night. Waverly can drive you back tomorrow. I’ll stay put either way, but.”

Waverly jerks in her sleep and then settles again, and Nicole’s mind is made up. 

“Yeah. My dad won’t mind.”

* * *

Waverly wakes up in the middle of the night.

She’s still in wolf-form, curled into a ball on the top of her bed. Her thoughts are slow, like they always are in wolf-form, sliding into her mind in impressions and images and smells instead of granular human words.

There’s someone in the bed next to her, which is unexpected but not bad. Waverly-the-wolf stays still, breathing in the scent of the person and allowing it to awaken thoughts.

_Human._

She stretches, carefully, feeling the places where her bones and tendons are re-knitting after the fall. The places where her skin is healing, scabbing over, the beginning of an itch forming beneath the clotted blood. 

Next to her, the human sleeps on.

Waverly tucks her nose back into her tail and closes her eyes. She’s not sure why this human is here, but she smells like part of Waverly’s pack, and she lets the thought comfort her as she drifts back into sleep.


	2. Chapter 2

Waverly wakes up in wolf form in the morning, which is almost as disorienting as finding someone sleeping next to her in her bed.

She doesn’t sleep in wolf form often. Some people do every night, but she’s never understood that. The wolf form has different dreams — of running, chasing, hunting prey. Smells, kaleidoscopic smells bursting in from all angles. Impossible smells. 

But the wolf dreams have no plot, no novelty. Waverly prefers the human dreams, where she can be anyone and anything can happen. Exploring in the Andes. Going to college on another continent. Running down the streets of Paris or swimming in the Coral Sea. 

None of it’s likely to happen for a girl from Purgatory, but if Waverly can dream, she’s going to.

She shifts back, and then regrets it when she remembers that Nicole might find it awkward to be next to a human girl with no clothing on. _Too late_.

Fortunately, Nicole doesn’t wake up when Waverly carefully gets out of bed. 

Once she’s in the bathroom, she moves carefully, trying to feel what’s still sore. The cuts and bruises she must have had the night before are gone, and she feels like she’s mostly better, but her shoulder’s still messed up — she tries to raise her arm above her head and winces.

The shower feels like the best thing ever, and once Waverly’s managed to get the shampoo and conditioner into her hair one-handed, she hangs out under the warm water for a while longer, letting it soothe away her remaining aches and pains.

She gets out of the shower when the water starts cooling off, feeling guilty, and grabs her fluffy robe from the hook on the back of the door.

Nicole’s sitting up when Waverly shuts the door to the bedroom. She’s wearing her t-shirt from the night before and her underwear, but her jeans and bra are on the floor.

“Hey,” Waverly says. She meets Nicole’s eyes and doesn’t know how to look away.

Nicole stares for a moment, and then shakes her head and starts pulling her jeans on. “Hey yourself. How are you feeling?”

“Like I just got shoved off a bridge.” Waverly goes to pick up her comb from her dresser. “Thank you for getting me home safe.” She only kind of remembers that part, but she’s pretty sure Nicole is the one who drove her here.

“Hope you don’t mind me staying,” Nicole says, awkwardly. “I didn’t want to kidnap your car, and I wasn’t sure if we should leave you.”

“It’s good,” Waverly says, meeting Nicole’s eyes in the mirror. “I mean it.”

Nicole looks down and nods. 

They’re quiet for a moment, and then Waverly starts trying to comb her hair and hisses. The darn shoulder — the rest of her’s just sore, but the shoulder’s still raw with pain.

Nicole comes over and takes the comb from Waverly’s hand. “I got this,” she says. She pulls Waverly’s long hair back and starts combing, gently, working the snarls out from the bottom.

In the mirror, Waverly only comes up to her chin. Waverly finds herself watching Nicole’s face while she combs her hair. 

“Do you want it braided?” Nicole asks, when she gets to the top of Waverly’s head. She’s just stroking the comb through Waverly’s hair now — all the snarls worked out. 

“Yeah,” Waverly says. Her mouth is dry and she’s not even sure why. 

Nicole spends a few minutes more combing out Waverly’s hair before she pulls it back. Her hands are gentle when she separates the hair and starts braiding. 

“Nothing fancy,” she says. “Not like you can manage. My hair’s not long enough for that kind of thing.”

“Anything’s good,” Waverly says. “Keep it out of my eyes for the next twelve hours, and I might even be able to brush it myself.”

Nicole smiles at her in the mirror, and then starts looking around for something. Waverly finds a hair tie and hands it to her.

“There,” Nicole says, from behind Waverly. “You’re all ready for the day.”

“Once I get out of this bathrobe,” Waverly says.  

“Um, yeah,” Nicole says. “About that.”

Waverly points Nicole down the hallway to the bathroom. While she’s gone, Waverly changes into a skirt and a bra and a soft shirt with buttons down the front, which isn’t too hard to get into, even with her shoulder.

“I borrowed someone’s mouthwash,” Nicole says, coming back into the room. 

“It’s fine.”

Nicole ends up joining them for breakfast. Gus grills her about her previous towns and her plans in Purgatory. Nicole’s lived a lot of places, which Waverly didn’t realize — she should have asked, she thinks, looking down guiltily into her pancakes. Nicole makes most of the places she’s lived sound pretty boring, but Waverly finds it hard to believe that anywhere that’s not Purgatory could really be _that_ boring. 

“Let me get you back to town,” Waverly says, once they’re finished with breakfast.

“You’re sure you’re okay to drive?”

“Absolutely,” Waverly says. “As long as nobody asks me to brush my hair at a stoplight.”

Nicole still looks worried, but she nods. “Yeah. My dad might start getting worried in another couple days.”

On the drive back, Nicole doesn’t say anything until they’re halfway to town.

“Hey,” she says. “You can tell me it’s none of my business or whatever, and that’s fine, but I kind of feel like I should ask. Does Champ do that a lot?”

Waverly isn’t sure what to say. “Do what?”

“Hurt you,” Nicole says, like it’s obvious.

“He never means to,” Waverly says, quietly.

He never means to, but Champ hurts her all the time. He says she’s his girl, but throw another reasonably-interested girl into his orbit and he cheats. He takes her for granted — like now that he’s claimed her, made her _his girl_ , she’s supposed to sit on a shelf and do whatever he wants. 

But accidents — “He never hits me,” Waverly says, and then laughs a little because shit, that’s not how you’re supposed to defend someone.

“I just —” Nicole’s looking out the window, not at Waverly. “If you need help. Or anything else. I’m here for you.”

“He’s not abusive,” Waverly says, because she knows exactly what Nicole’s thinking. “He just — sometimes he gets drunk and does stupid shit because he thinks it’s romantic.” _Like throwing me off a bridge._

“It’s none of my business,” Nicole says. “Just. You know. If you need help.”

Waverly looks at her sideways. They’re in town now, driving through to Nicole’s apartment. 

Nicole’s looking to the front, and then she turns to look Waverly, and Waverly’s heart catches in her throat and she almost misses the stoplight. (Which is hard. There’s only one stoplight in town.)

“Thanks,” Waverly says, breaking eye contact and pulling into a parking spot in front of the discount store.

“I mean it,” Nicole says. “And it was nice meeting your family.” 

Under the circumstances, Waverly doubts that.

“See you at school?” Waverly asks.

Nicole hops out of the Jeep and nods. “Count on it.”

* * *

Champ stays low to the ground for the rest of the weekend. Waverly doesn’t reach out to him and he doesn’t reach out to her. He’s probably sleeping off his hangover and guilt in wolf-form anyway.

He apologizes at school, on Monday, at lunchtime, because of course that’s what he does: puts on the performance in front of everyone, with flowers and everything. Waverly’s in front of her friends and it’s not like she can dump him in front of the whole school, right?

And he’s so sorry about it. So nice, when he hasn’t been drinking.

Waverly looks across the table and tries to meet Nicole’s eyes. She looks sympathetic, but Waverly’s not sure. Waverly spends the rest of the day trying to carry a bunch of wilting supermarket roses in her backpack and worrying what Nicole thinks of her.

Steph and Chrissy have accepted Nicole now, for unknowable reasons of their own, so the four of them head to pageant rehearsal together that afternoon. The Stone Witch has them running through drills for the opening and closing numbers. The closing number’s easy enough — just complicated walking, really, and Waverly’s got that down. 

But the opening number requires actual dance, which has never been Waverly’s thing. Steph keeps insisting that it’s not that hard, but Steph has eight years of ballet and tap behind her. 

Nicole is keeping up. Waverly gets flustered and out of breath just trying to keep on the beat with the other dancers relegated to the back row by the Stone Witch, but Nicole’s been put in the front row, with Steph, pounding through a routine of hops and skips and arm-waving (all of which has names Waverly’s never heard of, like shaw-say).

The Stone Witch keeps them later than planned, and then waves them away at the end of a hard routine. Steph drops down to the stage and starts stretching, and Nicole and Waverly and Chrissy join her.

“Still in the back row,” Chrissy says, under her breath. 

“I’m fine with the back row,” Waverly says. Hell, she’s having issues keeping up with Chrissy. Arm wave, arm wave, one two three four five six seven-eight — and why count to eight? Why not four. Why not any other damn number.

“I think Steph’s been taking dance just to kick our asses at this pageant.” Chrissy’s keeping her voice in that range where Steph can pretend not to hear her, but Chrissy can be pretty sure she _does_.

“You know it,” Steph says. She stretches forward over her legs, face up. The smile on her face would look more appropriate in wolf form. 

“ _And_ it gives you a talent.” Chrissy sounds envious. 

Steph straightens up and then twists into a side stretch. “I’m sure the judges will understand that you’re only lip-syncing because of your terrible singing voice.”

“At least I have a talent,” Chrissy says.

They both look at Waverly, who feels her cheeks warm with a blush. “What?”

“You’re doing wolf howls, aren’t you?” Steph starts laughing. “Just like McKenzie last year. And you know that wolf heritage stuff never goes over well with the judges.”

“I’m not doing the howls.” Waverly doesn’t even _like_ the howls, except as a historical curiosity. They have cell phones now. Cell phones are way more effective at communicating than coded howls. 

“So what is your talent?” Chrissy asks. Half-curious, half keeping Steph off her own back. “I’ve never heard you sing.”

“I haven’t decided yet,” Waverly says. 

Nicole shrugs. “I figure I’ll sing, and I’m a terrible singer.”

“Really?” Steph’s still running through her stretches, but Nicole has her attention now. “What are you singing?”

“You should dance,” Chrissy says. “You’re a really good dancer.” She goes quiet when Steph glares at her, though. Nicole’s a good enough dancer that Steph probably doesn’t want the competition.

“It’s just for fun, right?” Nicole asks.

Steph snorts. “That’s the kind of comment that gets you named Miss Congeniality.”

* * *

Waverly offers Nicole a ride home after the rehearsal, but Nicole says no. Mostly because she’s not sure she could keep from bringing up Champ, and she knows there’s no point in that. Waverly’s allowed to have terrible taste in boyfriends. But looking at the half-dead roses in Waverly’s backpack during the pageant rehearsal leaves Nicole feeling angry and helpless.

She figures maybe she’ll go for a run when she gets home. Work some of the anger and adrenaline out of her system. She doesn’t feel safe running out into the badlands, but there’s a loop around the town that isn’t too bad. Well-traveled.

She cuts behind the elementary school on her way home. There’s a group of kids playing soccer on one of the fields. Little kids, kindergarten maybe. They’re in wolf form, so they look like a group of eager puppies running around on the field, clustered so tightly around the ball that she can’t see it. Sometimes a couple of the kids get into a scuffle and fall away from the main knot, nipping and yelping until they look up and race back to the scrum around the ball. 

Nicole can’t tell which team is which and she’s not entirely sure all of the kids know, either. While she watches, the kid guarding the far goal looks up in alarm as the ball gets close to him and runs off, letting the other team score.

Their apartment’s above one of the stores on Main Street. Nicole lets herself into the side door and climbs the carpeted stairs without any enthusiasm. This isn’t the crappiest place she’s had to follow her father to, but she still wishes he’d spring for something nicer. Maybe with air conditioning. That’d be nice. 

Or maybe Purgatory doesn’t have any apartments like that. 

He’s at the kitchen table when she opens the door. _Great._

“Hey, kiddo,” he says, looking up from his computer. “How was your day at school?”

“Uninteresting,” Nicole says, trying to sound like she means it.

He lowers his glasses. His serious look. Nicole hates his serious look.

“You know I need more than that,” he says. “That’s the whole point of bringing my daughter with me.”

“Glad you’re so interested in spending time with me,” Nicole mutters. 

“And that, too.”

He’s never thrown by her. He just keeps pushing. _What are your friends doing, Nicole? How does that make you feel? What else is going on in town?_

Nicole goes into her room and drops her backpack. There’s nothing in there that’d interest him. He knows about the pageant, of course, because the school requires permission slips to participate and Nicole didn’t think of forging his name until it was too late.

“You can do this,” she mutters, avoiding looking at herself in the mirror as she changes into her running clothes.

Just another few weeks, and he’ll get bored again.

* * *

Things are weird between Waverly and Nicole for a few more days, but the routine of school and pageant rehearsals and lunches settles things out.

Waverly’s still thinking about her pageant talent. She has an idea, but — probably not an idea she’d win with. She’s still thinking it over.

On Thursday, Champ insists on going to the library with her. She’s just picking up some books for her research project, but he’s been super-clingy since the apology and the flowers.

The Purgatory town library is a bit better than the library at Purgatory High, but not by much. They’ve got a few more books on the paranatural, but it’s all pop-hist and pop-sci crap like Damian Haught. Waverly used to read his stuff, but then she read his book on mermaids and — yeah. No. He took some liberties with that one, from what Waverly’s read, and it made her wonder what else she’d missed in his earlier books.

She spends some time with the catalog and ends up ordering a couple new academic books about werewolves through Interlibrary Loan. Not that she needs more information about werewolves — it’s the werewolf myths she’s interested in.

Waverly used to spend her time researching other paranatural creatures. Much more interesting creatures than werewolves. But the more time she spends discussing Purgatory with Nicole, the more she realizes how much she doesn’t know. Why do most humans believe werewolves can spread a disease by biting other humans? Waverly’s never heard of a werewolf being made — you just get born that way. And there’s certainly no disease involved.

She’s clicking through the index of Modern Parascientific Horizons when Champ comes over from the table where he was working on homework (or texting someone — Waverly doesn’t want to think about who).

“I’m bored,” he says, leaning down low over her shoulder. “Do you have to do this now?”

 _I didn’t invite you_ , Waverly thinks, with a flash of anger that surprises her. 

“We could go hang out in the Jeep,” Champ says. “Maybe take a ride up to the overlook.” He pushes her hair back and noses at her neck.

“I have to finish this,” Waverly says, sharply. When she sees Champ’s expression, she softens her voice. “Hey. It’s just school stuff, okay? I really need to get into a good college.”

Champ’s face goes from wheedling to angry in a millisecond. “What, like you need to stay here to do your little research so you can leave me behind?”

“I didn’t say that,” Waverly says. 

“Fine.” Champ gets up and slams his chair into the library desk. “Give me a call when you want to spend time with your boyfriend.”

Waverly watches him through the windows of the library, and she wonders. She’s avoided being alone with him, since the bridge.

It’s not like he hasn’t hurt her before. It’s something else. 

Like maybe before, she just figured that was what love and relationships were. You found a wolf whose scent you liked (or maybe a wolf who liked your scent found you) and you ran together, maybe killed a goose or something, shared the meat… figured out the human side of your relationship. Spent time together.

Waverly likes hunting with Champ, racing over the badlands with him. He’s good out there. But she has other dreams in her life — dreams that go beyond Purgatory. Maybe even beyond college and coming back to teach.

Maybe she can be a real researcher. Maybe she can do whatever she wants.

Maybe there’s someone who’s not Champ who she wants to do that with.

She pushes the thought of Nicole out of her head and goes back to Modern Parascientific Horizons.

* * *

Saturday is dress shopping day.

Steph shows up early, in her car, and leans on the horn until Waverly comes out of the house. 

“We’re going to be late,” Steph says. “Get in.”

Waverly’s got her purse, so she hops into the back seat, next to Nicole, and waves to Gus. Maybe she can talk Steph into stopping at a Starbucks on their way into the city.

Nicole looks half-asleep. “Is she always like this?” she asks Waverly.

“Only when she’s got a goal she cares about as much as dress shopping,” Waverly says, biting down on a yawn.

“I hear you nerds,” Steph says.

Steph’s unyielding on the Starbucks question, but the bridal and prom salon where she’s booked them an appointment has coffee and a tray of mini-muffins, which Waverly falls on with gratitude. 

“We’re here for dresses,” Steph says, pulling Waverly away from the food. She can’t protest because her mouth is full of mini-muffins.

The sales associate assigned to their appointment tries to collect information about what dresses they’re interested in and bring them out, but Steph bulldozes over her and leads the others back to the dress areas. It’s more dresses than Waverly’s ever seen in one place before, spread out by color in a riot of tulle and taffeta.

Chrissy and Steph split off to start looking. Nicole’s hanging back, with Waverly, who’s trying to gulp down her coffee so she won’t spill anything on a $600 evening gown.

“So what are you looking for?” Nicole asks. 

Waverly scrunches her forehead. “I have no idea.”

Nicole starts pushing through the dresses, holding some up for Waverly to nod at.

“Wait a minute,” Waverly says. “What are you looking for in your dress?”

“My aunt’s sending a couple dresses,” Nicole says, deep in a rack of magenta satin. “I figure I may as well wear something I already own.”

Which makes sense. It’s what Waverly would be doing if she already owned a pageant-appropriate dress, which of course she doesn’t. She finds herself wondering why Nicole does. 

They load themselves down with at least twenty dresses before heading back to the changing area, where their sales associate may as well be wringing her hands as Steph tosses out one dress after another.

Chrissy’s standing on the mirrored dias, wearing a short mint-green dress with a ruffled skirt and black lace around the waist. “What do you think?”

“It’s definitely different,” Waverly says, diplomatically.

Chrissy looks back at herself in the mirror. “Even if we got them to make one with a long skirt?”

The sales associate looks up from the pile of dresses she’s rescued from Steph. “I don’t think we can make that alteration in the timeline your friend mentioned.”

Also, the dress makes Chrissy look like a lint-covered after-dinner mint, but if she doesn’t see that, Waverly’s not going to point it out. Chrissy keeps looking at herself in the mirror before shaking her head and heading back to her dressing room.

Nicole and Waverly load down her dressing room with all the dresses.

“Here’s the good part.” Nicole smiles. “I get to go sit on the couch and watch you model all of these for me.”

Waverly doesn’t model all of them. Some of them she just needs to hold up to her face to know that — _yeah, not going to work_. 

But she comes out in most of them. Some of them are too big and she has to keep her hands behind herself to hold them up. Some of them are too short (for a pageant, anyway). Some of them are — just too much: fluffy and ruffly. They make Waverly feel like the dress is wearing her.

Nicole claps and cheers for Waverly, in between giving Chrissy and Steph her un-edited opinion of their dress choices. 

She tells Steph that the bright yellow taffeta makes her look like a drunk canary, which is _true_ but Waverly would never say it. Steph narrows her eyes and Waverly thinks she’s going to shift into wolf form right there, leave the dress on the floor and throw herself at Nicole, but then Steph looks back to the mirror and shakes her head and drops the dress on the floor for the sales associate to pick up before heading back into her dressing room.

Waverly saves the seafoam-and-sand dress for last, because she’s not convinced. It’s one of the ones Nicole picked out for her — not one Waverly would have chosen on her own, because it’s loaded down with beading and she’s not sure if it’ll look right under the lights. It’s a beautiful dress, just — not one she can see herself in?

And Steph spent the entire ride in telling them all her rules for pageant dresses. Shiny. Fluffy. Eye-catching in color.

But she tries it anyway. It’s got that weirdly structured thing going on, like she’s zipping herself into a corset.

She lets her hair down and looks in the dressing room mirror. _Maybe._

Nicole doesn’t clap or cheer when Waverly comes out in the seafoam dress. Instead, she goes quiet — staring at Waverly in a way that makes a low heat burn in Waverly’s gut. 

“Do you like it?” Waverly asks.

Instead of answering, Nicole gets up from the couch and comes to stand behind Waverly. She brushes her hands through Waverly’s hair, gently, and lifts it off her shoulders and onto her head.

Waverly meets her eyes in the mirror. She’s not sure what to say.

“You look amazing,” Nicole says, and Waverly can feel the heat from her breath on her ear.

Waverly shivers. “Okay, then.”

“This is the dress?”

Waverly turns around, and Nicole’s hands stay in her hair as she does. “It’s the dress,” she says, and it’s not the insanely tight strapless dress making her sound breathless.

And then Steph starts yelling. “Hey! Human. I need your opinion on this one.”

Nicole drops Waverly’s hair back onto her neck and turns around, and Waverly wants to say _no, stay_ , but what is she expecting here? She has a boyfriend. And even if she didn’t —

Even if she didn’t.

Waverly takes another look at herself and Nicole in the mirror before walking carefully back to the dressing room. She takes the dress off. 

It’s definitely the dress. Waverly has no questions about that.

* * *

Waverly still hasn’t decided on her pageant talent, so when Champ shows up at the house on Saturday afternoon, she’s halfway through making a list (and removing every option as soon as she comes up with it, because what was she thinking? She’s not a fire juggler and she’s not going to learn in time for the pageant and anyway, there’s probably some rule or something about fire-juggling in the school auditorium).

“Why weren’t you at the bridge last night?” Champ asks.

_Because last time you threw me off._

“Other stuff to do,” Waverly says. “I’m working on my talent.”

Champ comes up behind her and leans down to wrap his arms around her waist. “You don’t need a talent.”

“It’s for the pageant,” Waverly says, annoyed. She wants to push him off.

“I know,” Champ says. He pushes her hair back and kisses her neck. “God, you’re gorgeous. Just go out there and be beautiful, babe.”

Waverly twists, breaking free. “Not how pageants work, Champ. Anyway, I’m thinking about putting together some research on werewolves.”

“Why?” Champ’s mouth is going to his pouty place. “Everyone knows that shit.”

“Everyone here,” Waverly says. “But don’t you ever wonder why people outside the Ghost River Triangle have all those stupid theories about us?”

“Who cares?” Champ says. “Look, are you going to waste all weekend on this shit? I want to go out.”

Go out. Like going and drinking peach schnapps by the bridge is going out. Like the damn wolf jumps are _going out_.

“I care about this,” Waverly says.

“Don’t be like this.” Champ’s whining, but there’s a harder edge behind what he’s saying, and Waverly’s suddenly glad that Wynonna’s upstairs. 

Waverly stares at him, and has a moment of realization. This is just — who Champ is. He cares about Waverly, but he doesn’t care about _Waverly_ , because he doesn’t really know her. He just knows his cute, hot girlfriend who’s really good at hunting with him and maybe has some weird hobbies he doesn’t get.

“You really don’t care, do you?” Waverly says.

“I care about you, babe,” Champ says. 

“Do you?” Waverly’s got that sick anger feeling in her throat, the one that makes her want to shift into wolf form and run away, but she's spent enough time avoiding Champ and his issues. “Do you actually care about me, Champ? Or do you just like me when I’m your hot girlfriend, and I don’t talk too much about my dorky research?”

“I like you,” Champ says. 

But he says it like he’s trying to figure out his lines.

Waverly rakes her hands through her hair and sighs. “I just —” 

She’s tired of this. She’s tired of this and she thinks — _hopes_ — that there’s something better out there for her.

But even if there weren’t. 

“I think you should go,” Waverly says. “I think this is over.”

Champ starts to snarl, but then Wynonna coughs from the other end of the room.

“You heard my sister,” Wynonna says. 

He holds his position for a moment, like he’s maybe going to challenge Wynonna. But Wynonna’s got her thousand-yard stare. She’s challenged bigger wolves than Champ and lived to tell the tale.

He turns around and walks off, like he’s trying not to run. Like he’s trying not to admit that he got stared down by Wynonna Earp.

Wynonna and Waverly follow him out, and watch him drive off.

“And don’t come back,” Wynonna yells after his truck. She puts her arm around Waverly and hugs her. “You okay, baby girl?”

Waverly’s not sure. What comes out of her mouth is halfway between a sniffle and a laugh. But Champ’s gone, and soon the prairie winds will erase even the dust from his truck from her life.

“I think I will be,” she says.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to everyone who's reading, commenting, and kudosing!
> 
> Interestingly enough, I started writing this story back before the dresses for the Solstice party showed up in canon. But once they showed up, there was no way I was leaving those dresses out. ♥


	3. Chapter 3

On Monday morning, the Purgatory gossip system has done its work. Everyone knows about the breakup. Steph and Chrissy swoop down on Waverly as soon as she gets to school in the morning, all cooing voices and _But it’s Champ. Are you sure…._ They trail off without suggesting that maybe Champ’s the best guy Waverly could find.

Like Waverly’s looking for a guy to replace Champ. She isn’t.

She smiles at Chrissy and Steph, and then heads off to class.

* * *

Nicole’s not as linked into the Purgatory gossip network, so she doesn’t hear anything certain about the breakup until lunchtime, when Waverly comes up and puts a hand through her arm and pulls her to another table.

“We’re letting Champ keep Mike, which means he gets Chrissy and Steph for lunch,” Waverly says, leaning forward over the table.

“So the gossip’s true?” Nicole asks. She heard something about it, but she was figuring it was just wishful thinking.

Waverly smiles, and Nicole smiles back, and then they’re just smiling at one another across the cafeteria table and Nicole’s not sure how she can look away. Doesn’t want to look away. 

She feels herself starts blushing, just a little, and then looks down at her sandwich. “So. Dance rehearsal tonight?”

* * *

Champ spends the rest of the week staring puppy-dog eyed at Waverly from across the room. Waverly’s seen this before, and she knows what he thinks. He thinks she’s going to go back to him.

He’s also wrong. This time. Waverly’s sure of it. 

On Friday, Chrissy and Steph ask Waverly if she wants to have a girl’s night, mostly because Mike and Champ and the rest are probably planning an epic booze-and-running-around-drunk night. (“Hunting night” — whatever. There’s no way they’ll be in any shape to hunt.)

But Waverly’s good. She’s going over to Nicole’s.

It’s the first time Waverly’s been to Nicole’s apartment. She knew that there were apartments above some of the store buildings on Main Street, but she’s never visited one of them before.

“It’s kind of crappy,” Nicole says, opening the door for her. “It came pre-furnished.” She wrinkles her nose, like Waverly knows what she’s talking about.

It looks fine to Waverly. Standard living room, dining room table, kitchen. 

“The dresses are in my bedroom,” Nicole says, and Waverly follows her down a narrow hall and into a room with wide windows looking out on Main Street.

It’s not very personal. The bedspread is hunter green plaid, which doesn’t seem like anything Nicole would have picked out. 

Nicole goes to the closet and opens it, and Waverly’s surprised — there are five full-length gowns in there. Not dresses, even. Proper gowns, the kind you see at fancy events in the city (not the Waverly’s ever been to one in person, but Steph and Chrissy like watching red carpet events and picking apart the dresses and the hair). 

“Which one?” Nicole asks, pulling the hangers out and throwing the dresses down on the bed next to Waverly. 

Waverly runs her hand over the fabric of the top one. It’s a deep, emerald green satin.

“I think I need to see you try these on,” she says, smiling up at Nicole. She modeled everything for Nicole at the dress shop. It’s only fair.

“As you wish,” Nicole says, scooping up the dresses and hanging them in the corner of the room. Waverly can just see her changing, and turns away, because she’s not sure how Nicole feels about that.

The first dress is amazing, and Waverly says so.

Nicole’s expression says she’s not impressed. “And the fit’s not great,” she says, looking down at the skirt. “I think I wore flats last time I wore this.”

“So try on another,” Waverly says.

There’s a dress the color of goldenrod, with a tulle overskirt printed with tiny stars. Nicole makes a face when Waverly pushes it towards her, but she tries it on anyway.

“I love it,” Waverly says. It’s only like half mocking. Nicole looks incredible in the dress, in spite of the starry fluffiness of the skirt, but then Waverly’s pretty sure Nicole could make any dress look amazing.

Nicole wrinkles her nose. “I feel like I’m twelve.”

“I still love it,” Waverly says. “Um. I mean… you look good. I don’t think you look twelve.” She flops over on Nicole’s bed, next to the dresses. “What about the red one?”

Nicole thinks the red one clashes with her hair — “I don’t know why Aunt Maggie sent it” — but she’s willing to try it on. And the fairy-princess dress, which is a pale blush pink with a wide skirt and shimmering beadwork that feels strangely soft when Waverly brushes her hand over it.

“It’s a little prom-princess, don’t you think?” Nicole says, studying herself in the mirror.

“That’s exactly what you want, though,” Waverly says. “Trust me. I’ve made a study of the Purgatory High pageant and princess is exactly the way to go.”

Nicole doesn’t seem convinced. She slips into the last dress.

She looked amazing in all the other dresses, but this one — wearing this one, Nicole takes Waverly’s breath away.

It’s draped like the dress of a Greek goddess, gathered over one shoulder into the bodice. A long skirt falls from a wide belt. It’s ombre purple, and while it shouldn’t work on Nicole, it does — makes her skin look even creamier, and her hair look even redder.

“It’s amazing,” Waverly says, and she’s completely serious.

Nicole studies herself in the mirror, and then turns to look at Waverly. “You think so?”

“I know so,” Waverly says. “I mean. You should probably still go for the princess one for the pageant. But this is definitely the one I like best.”

Waverly gets up and starts putting the dresses back on the hangers while Nicole changes back into her jeans and t-shirt.

“So why do you have all these dresses?” Waverly asks.

Nicole looks uncomfortable. “Sometimes there are events I have to go to,” she says, like that’s normal.

Waverly can tell Nicole’s ducking the question, but she understands not wanting to talk about things. She’s spent years not wanting to talk about Champ.

“I get it,” Waverly says. She brushes past Nicole on the way to the closet to hang up the rest of the dresses.

Nicole hands her the last dress — the purple dress. The amazing dress. “So this is your favorite,” she says.

“Yeah,” Waverly says, and she’s feeling Nicole’s hand on hers, on the hanger. “Definitely this one.”

“And not the fairy princess one.” Nicole lets go, and Waverly’s disappointed. 

“You should wear the fairy princess dress for the pageant,” Waverly says, turning away to hang the last dress up in the closet. 

When Waverly turns back, Nicole’s still right behind her, and Waverly looks up into her eyes and finds herself unable to look away.

“And the purple dress?” Nicole asks. “What should I wear that dress for?”

Waverly can feel her heart pounding in her chest. She takes a half step closer.

“You should wear that dress for me,” she says. Like she’s brave.

“Yeah?” Nicole lifts a hand up to Waverly’s face. Almost. She’s not quite touching her.

There’s a moment where Waverly’s waiting for Nicole to touch her, _come on already_ , and then — _screw waiting_. Waverly leans in the last few inches, pushing herself up against Nicole, and kisses her.

Their lips meet unevenly. At first Waverly’s just kissing the side of Nicole’s mouth, but then she pulls back before brushing Nicole’s hair back from her face and kissing her full on. Nicole’s only just pushing back against Waverly’s lips, and then she cups her hand around Waverly’s head and pulls her in closer.

There’s a moment, between kisses, when they pull back and look at each other and it feels like Waverly’s falling. Like she’s frozen in a moment, and she wants it to last as long as possible.

Waverly leans back in and kisses Nicole again. She’s hoping this fall lasts a long, long time.

* * *

They have to go back to the dress shop Saturday morning. The dresses they ordered are in, and they don’t have much time to get alterations made before the pageant next weekend.

When Waverly picks Nicole up outside her apartment, she feels like she’s filled with glitter and sparkles and she can’t keep herself from grinning when Nicole smiles back at her.

Steph and Chrissy meet them there, because Waverly’s pretty sure she can’t keep this under wraps while sitting in the back seat of Steph’s car. (Not that Nicole’s asked her to keep anything under wraps. Just. She’s not sure what this is and she’s not sure where it’s heading, even though she knows where she _wants_ it to be heading.)

They all stop off for lunch after the dress shop. Just lunch at the mall, but Nicole buys them both chicken teriyaki. Waverly’s grinning at her when Steph and Chrissy sit down.

“Hey,” Steph says. “Space case. What’s wrong with you?”

Waverly shakes her head. “Nothing. I’m fine.” She can’t stop herself from smiling at Nicole again.

“She wasn’t like this the last time she broke up with Champ,” Chrissy whispers across the table to Steph.

“Maybe I’m just happy,” Waverly says, and spears a piece of chicken with her fork.

“Maybe you’re a weirdo,” Steph says. “Did you figure out your talent yet?”

Waverly has, but she’s — not exactly proud of it? Her plan right now is to present some of her research into werewolf origins to the judges. Probably. Unless she suddenly wakes up with an amazing singing voice or dance skills on the morning of the pageant, but she’s aware that that’s pretty unlikely.

Nicole and Waverly spend Saturday night together, hanging out at Waverly’s house. Wynonna’s there, but she’s focused on some project of her own, so she’s not paying attention to Nicole and Waverly on the couch, holding hands under a blanket while they watch a movie.

It’s not until Sunday afternoon that everything comes crashing down.

* * *

Nicole knows how nervous Waverly is about the presentation she’s got planned. It’s not a normal pageant talent.

And Nicole’s father is out all afternoon, poking around and hopefully not getting himself into trouble. Maybe he’s just gone to the big city. Maybe he’s not planning on putting the Ghost River Triangle werewolves into print. 

She can hope, anyway. She’s trying not to think about it. 

So Waverly comes over, bringing sandwiches from Shorty’s, and they hang out in Nicole’s kitchen and Waverly shows Nicole her PowerPoint presentation for the talent portion of the competition.

It’s _good_ and Nicole has been sort-of involved with enough paranatural research to recognize quality when she sees it. Waverly’s got a knack for pulling out the essential humanity of the werewolves. Nicole wonders how Waverly would do a presentation on another paranatural creature — would she be able to give that same empathy and compassion to a creature she wasn’t one of?

Waverly beams down at her, and Nicole’s pretty sure that she would.

“So?” Waverly asks, once she’s completed the presentation. “Was it okay?”

“Okay?” Nicole gets up and comes over to the blank living room wall that Waverly’s been using as her screen, and puts her arms around her. “It was amazing,” she whispers into the top of Waverly’s head, smelling her shampoo.

“Really?” 

Nicole takes a step back and Waverly just looks… so surprised. She’s told Nicole how Champ reacted to her research, and Nicole finds her heart breaking a little.

“It was awesome,” Nicole says. “You’re really talented at this, Waves.” She stops herself before she can say anything more — like _and I’ve got a reason to know_. 

They end up snuggled up together on the couch in the living room, while Waverly tells Nicole all about the research she’s been doing into the werewolves of the Ghost River Triangle, and what she’s planning on researching once she makes it out of Purgatory and into the real world. College. All that.

Waverly’s just gotten up to grab a book from her backpack when Nicole’s father comes home.

Nicole can feel her stomach twisting. Waverly’s here and there’s no way she can get her away. No way she can avoid introducing —

“Hello,” Nicole’s father says, blinking at Waverly. “I’m Nicole’s father, Damian Haught. And you are?”

* * *

Waverly smiles and says the right small-talk things and packs up her computer and takes her backpack and gets the hell out of the apartment without even _looking_ at Nicole.

Nicole runs after her, of course. But Waverly’s got a ball of anger in her throat and she’s not —

“Waves.” Nicole puts a hand on her shoulder, gentle, and Waverly spins around to face her.

“Why didn’t you tell me your father is Damian Haught?” Waverly can feel her voice shaking. “What the hell, Nicole.”

“I was going to tell you,” Nicole says, and she’s got an expression on her face that would make Waverly melt if she were even 5% less furious than she is right now.

_Damian Haught_.

Waverly used to read his books, back before she got old enough to realize just how much of the paranatural experience he was glossing over, or maybe didn’t even understand. He’s a paranatural tourist, coming into a community just long enough to suck up the weirdest things to bring back for his readers to laugh and marvel over. He gives paranatural research a terrible name. 

He’s everything Waverly always said she’d be better than.

And while Waverly didn’t know his daughter’s name, she knows that his daughter has helped him in his research before. Damian Haught’s nameless daughter was the one who told him about the mermaids going out into the open ocean. That book got the mermaids relocated from their ancestral mangrove groves and into a shitty preserve that might as well be Sea World.

Waverly’s so angry she’s not sure if she can see straight. “Is that what this is, Nicole? Are you here to help your father uncover some sordid secret about the Ghost River Triangle? Are you going to get us all locked up?”

Nicole looks really upset now. “It’s not like that,” she says. “Look, after what happened with Laina, I don’t tell him anything. He doesn’t even know who you are.”

“Laina?” Waverly takes a step away from Nicole. “Who’s Laina?”

“She was my friend,” Nicole says, heavily. “Waverly, I was ten years old. How was I supposed to know that telling my father that my friend and I swam out to the ocean with her family could lead to all of that?”

_Right, Laina the mermaid._

Waverly shakes her head. “How am I supposed to trust you? I should go straight to the Pack with all of this.”

“You can’t do that,” Nicole says. She sounds scared. “I haven’t been telling him anything. Waverly, you have to believe me.”

“I don’t have to believe anything,” Waverly snaps. 

“I know,” Nicole says, “but listen. He’s bored and he’s not finding anything and if you just don’t say anything, he’s going to write this up as an article for the Atlantic or something and it’s going to go away. If you tell the Pack and they do anything to him, anything at all, he’s going to dig in and write a book about it.”

Waverly can feel her eyes filling with tears. “So you were always going to leave,” she says. 

Nicole takes a step closer to her and Waverly can’t make herself step away. “I never planned for —” She waves a hand between them. “I couldn’t have even hoped for this.”

_This_. Waverly takes a step back.

It’s not even just about what happened to the mermaids. Waverly follows paranatural news. After Damian Haught’s book on the fairies in Wisconsin came out, the local humans decided that it was a tourist attraction they couldn’t turn down. Now fairyland has a two-lane asphalt highway. Bus tours. Gawkers. 

No wonder Nicole’s dress makes her look like a fairy princess. It was probably made for one. 

“I can’t do this,” Waverly says, and she hates herself for the way her voice shakes on the words. “I just can’t do this right now, Nicole.”

Nicole raises her hands. “Whatever you need. Anything. Is there anything I can do? Waverly, I never….”

Waverly can tell Nicole’s got tears in her eyes, too.

But right now, she’s having a hard time caring.

She turns around and goes.

* * *

Nicole doesn’t go right back home after her fight with Waverly.

Instead, she walks down to Shorty’s. She’s not technically old enough — well. Actually, given the way trips into Faerie and Mt. Olympus mess with your personal timeline, it’s completely possible that Nicole Haught’s birth date puts her at the legal drinking age, even though the experienced timeline of Nicole Haught says she’s exactly old enough to be a junior in high school.

One more way Damian Haught has royally fucked with his daughter’s life, Nicole thinks. 

As she walks down the sidewalk, an adult wolf and a smaller wolf with a puppyish look come down the sidewalk and she steps aside to let them pass. Just another day in the Ghost River Triangle.

A Diet Coke and a sandwich fail to illuminate anything, and Waverly doesn’t come into the bar, even though Nicole’s secretly hoping she will.

Nicole gives up when the shadows start to fall across Main Street and the streetlights start coming on. She walks back through the twilight, watching the shop keepers close down the other stores. The pharmacy has a large display of flea treatments that look like shampoo might in a store outside the Ghost River Triangle. 

When Nicole gets back to the apartment, her father is sitting at the table with his laptop. “You ran out,” he says. “Why didn’t you get your friend to stay and talk?”

“What, you can’t dig up your own research subjects?” Nicole snaps.

Her father takes his glasses off and wipes them on his shirt. “How are you doing, pumpkin?”

Nicole is not his pumpkin. She’s never been his pumpkin. It’s the ridiculous nickname he chose to make himself look better when he was taking her to single father support groups in Salem, trying to worm his way into one of the witches’ covens. (The witches got lucky, because he didn’t find a book there.)

“How do you live with yourself?” Nicole asks. “Do you just ignore what happens after you move on?”

“The mermaid thing again.” He sighs heavily. “Nicole, you know that was unsafe.”

Nicole’s suddenly so angry, her vision’s narrowing. “Unsafe for who? For the mermaids? Because they’d be doing that trip for centuries. Or do you mean it was unsafe for the ten-year-old human girl you let go with the paranatural creatures without any supervision? Because yeah, I don’t think I’d be awarding Father of the Year to the guy who did that.”

“You’ve always remembered your training,” he says. “You were perfectly safe.”

Like he always says when they have this fight.

Nicole knows her next line. But instead, she stares at him. It’s like she’s heard him for the first time.

_Perfectly safe_. Just like the time in Olympus, or the time in Transylvania. Sure. Perfectly safe.

Nicole’s finding herself thinking about what Waverly Earp would do, and she’s pretty sure she’s got the answer.


	4. Chapter 4

Nicole shows up for school the next morning with red eyes. She hardly slept. But she’s not taking Champ’s example. Not showing up with flowers or trying to get Waverly to forgive her.

Waverly has the right to be angry. Nicole should have told her.

She tries not to look at Waverly when they cross in the hallways, or when they have class together. At lunch, Nicole sits at her own table and keeps working on her notes. Her plan. And at the pageant rehearsal, Nicole stretches off in the corner until the actual dance rehearsal begins.

She thinks she can feel Waverly’s eyes on her, from the back row. But maybe that’s just wishful thinking.

After rehearsal, the Stone Witch calls Nicole over.

“Yes, Ms. Clootie?” Nicole says. She’s never had the Stone Witch pay personal attention to her before — she’s not a great dancer compared to someone like Steph, but she thought she’d been keeping up in the front row. 

“It has come to my attention that you won’t be able to compete in the agility trials,” the Stone Witch says. 

“Why not?” Nicole asks. She’s surprised. She’s seen a video of the agility trials from last year’s pageant. It doesn’t look that hard.

“Oh, my dear,” the Stone Witch says. Her expression of sympathy is clearly fake. “In that clumsy human form?”

Nicole looks down at herself. “It’s always done fine for me,” Nicole says. “I’ll probably skip a couple of the obstacles, but that just gets me marked down points, right?”

“Dear.” The Stone Witch is looking at Nicole like she’s —defective, maybe. “Well. If you choose to stumble through a course designed for the perfection of the canine form — I suppose I cannot stop you.”

Nicole’s not sure what to say to that. But it’s not the first time she’s been through this kind of thing, so she stares at Ms. Clootie a little longer, until the woman shakes her head and tells Nicole to “run along, now, your little friends will be missing you.”

* * *

Every time Waverly feels herself start moping, she throws herself into the internet and researching Damian Haught. And his daughter.

It works, for the first couple days. Waverly reads about Damian Haught and the mermaids — relocated from their native lands, which were bought by a developer who’s now in the process of tearing down the mangrove swamps. She gets furious about the tour busses tormenting the fairies in Wisconsin.

Chrissy drives them into the city to pick up their dresses on Wednesday night. Chrissy and Steph are chattering about the pageant, about whose dress got destroyed by their sister instead of properly altered, and who’s got laryngitis and can’t sing, and who’s going to embarrass themselves at the agility trials Friday night. (Probably Nicole, Waverly thinks dully, but Chrissy and Steph are still being unexpectedly sensitive about Nicole, given the way Waverly and Nicole have broken off talking to one another.)

Waverly’s not really paying attention. She’s using her phone to look up pictures of Damian Haught and Nicole.

She finds herself thinking that she _should_ tell the Pack about him. She’d be warning them, really. She knows that telling the Pack could end badly, maybe even end in violence, but looking at the picture of Damian Haught smugly signing his mermaid book, it feels like it might be worth it.

It’s the pictures of Nicole that make it hard to give in. Make it hard for Waverly to convince herself that telling the Pack would be the right thing. 

In the photographs, Nicole’s always her father’s shadow, curled in on herself. Waverly recognizes the dresses but she hardly recognizes the Nicole who’s wearing them.

It’s not the Nicole who Waverly got to know. Since that first day in the cafeteria, Nicole’s been outspoken. Always been able to hold her own with Chrissy and Steph. She’s been brave, standing up to Champ when Waverly got hurt. And caring… Waverly thinks about Nicole’s hand against her cheek and the phone starts shimmering in her gaze as her eyes start tearing up.

“Hey!” Steph snaps her fingers in front of Waverly’s face. “We’re here, weirdo.”

Waverly pockets her phone and follows Steph and Chrissy into the dress store. 

In the fitting room, Waverly runs a hand over the rough beading on her dress. It’s still an incredible dress. The shop fixed the hemline, and when she steps into her shoes, it falls perfectly. 

The dress looks amazing. 

Waverly pulls back her hair and holds it up on top of her head, looking at the fit of the bodice across her chest. 

The dress looks amazing, but it doesn’t look right without Nicole behind her.

* * 

Nicole heads into the bathroom to change after school on Friday. She’s got her workout gear in her bag. Maybe she can’t change into fur and fangs like the rest of the contestants, but she has no intention of dropping out of the pageant.

No intention of letting anybody know how she’s feeling, either. Waverly’s still not talking to her, not even looking at her, which means Chrissy and Steph are staying away, too. As she walks from the school to the challenge course, Nicole dully wonders what Waverly’s told them.

If Waverly's told them anything. Maybe Steph and Chrissy just think Waverly’s finally come to her senses. Cut the human off. 

It’s overcast out, and there’s a feeling like rain’s coming in. The stands are filled with spectators, which Nicole wasn’t exactly expecting, and she starts feeling self-conscious in her workout tank and compression shorts and sneakers. 

The rest of the contestants’ area is all wolf. Nicole sees Steph’s blonde fur, and Chrissy’s chestnut brown. She turns away before she can see the golden-brown fur of Waverly’s wolf form.

It’s strange — she was expecting this to be an opportunity for the wolf competitors to show off their wolf forms in a beauty-contest way. But there are no fur brushes here. No sisters and mothers helping to primp the wolves for maximum beauty. Instead, the contestant area is filled with wolves who look like they’re about to set out on a hunt. 

Nicole’s starting to shiver in her workout clothes when the Stone Witch finally comes up to the stand at the front and starts telling the crowd all about the pageant and how only the most talented and sure-footed of Purgatory’s young women will win the crown of Miss Purgatory. It’s got a rote feel, like this is the speech she gives every year. 

Nicole’s only sort-of paying attention. Her father knows about this, which means —

— yeah. Nicole sees him walking up the steps of the seating area with a sinking feeling in her chest.

She knew he’d be here. It’s the story he was looking for: small town Americana with werewolves added in. His daughter competing in a werewolf pageant in a depressed ranching community is exactly the type of story he loves to tell.

The first competitor goes up — a girl (wolf) Nicole doesn’t know well. She does well, although she stumbles off the end of the balance beam and the Stone Witch’s commentary is poisonously sweet. The next two competitors do better, maybe. Nicole can’t really tell. 

Nicole’s so focused on her father and whether her plan is going to work that she doesn’t notice she’s the next contestant up until she feels a cold nose pressing into her thigh. She looks down to see Chrissy’s brown fur. She’s got mud on her paws.

“Right,” she says, looking down. “Thank you.”

So Chrissy isn’t ignoring her entirely. Maybe Waverly didn’t tell them. Nicole’s not sure if that makes her feel hopeful, or even more depressed, because she definitely doesn’t deserve that. 

The wolf before Nicole makes a triumphant landing from the balance beam and trots back into the stands.

Nicole steps up, and the whistle blows.

_Just like Olympus_ , she reminds herself. She’s competed in paranatural competitions before. She always did worst out of everyone on track and field, but that was when she had minor godlings as competitors.

The crowd’s gone silent to watch her, the only human among the wolves. Nicole can hear the burble of the Stone Witch’s words, but she’s not paying attention to that now. She’s focused on her breathing, on the fall of her feet on the course. She clears the first two hurdles easily before knocking down the third. 

She weaves through the slalom before throwing herself up and over the wall — it’s tall enough to be a challenge for someone in wolf form, but Nicole clears it easily. 

The ring — she planned to skip that, but in the moment, Nicole realizes that she can grip the top of the obstacle, kick off the ground, and let her momentum carry her through. She’s back on her feet and running up the balance beam, carefully. It’s sized for wolf paws, not human sneakers, but she’s always had good balance.

And then it’s just the sprint back to the start. Nicole’s legs are muddy but as she starts breathing easier, she hears the Stone Witch announce her time. 

She’s on the board. She lost points for the hurdle, but she beat a couple of the slowest of the wolves on time. 

Just then, the rain starts falling, and Nicole sees Steph streak forward to the course, a blur of blonde fur against the mud.

Nicole sinks down, and tries not to look for Waverly.

* * *

Waverly used to love obstacle courses, back when she was running them in gym class in elementary school. But it’s been a long time since then, and she’s not in the mood to go for a run in public.

She’s trying not to pay attention when Nicole does her run, but she watches in spite of herself. Nicole does pretty well, for a human. The course scale is all wrong for her, of course. Waverly finds herself feeling angry at the Stone Witch for not adjusting the hurdles to her height (because come on, clearly unfair) and then she remembers that Nicole is Damian Haught’s daughter and she’s not sure how to feel.

Nicole still smells like pack to Waverly when Waverly’s in wolf-form. Waverly retreats to the other side of the competitor’s area and tries not to think about that while she waits for her turn.

* * *

Saturday morning. Pageant morning.

Nicole wakes up early, because she has important stuff to get done this morning that has nothing to do with the pageant.

Her father’s sitting at the table when she goes in. He’s got his Dad-of-the-Year smile on, the way he always does when he needs her for his research. 

It used to be so easy for Nicole to trust that smile. To trust that her dad loved her, that she really was an important part of his research. To believe what his editors and agents said. To believe that he was spreading knowledge and breaking down barriers between humans and the paranatural.

But Nicole’s older now. No matter how much it hurts, she’s learned to see what her father does from the paranatural point of view.

Maybe it just took falling for Waverly to get her to admit it to herself. 

“So how’s my beauty pageant winner this morning?” her father says. He’s left muffins on the table. “Get plenty of beauty sleep?”

Nicole sits down across from him, but the words she planned are sticking in her throat. Instead of speaking, she pushes the sheaf of paper she printed across the table at him.

He looks at her. “What’s this, pumpkin?”

Nicole clears her throat. “You should probably read that. And I don’t want you at the pageant tonight, either.”

His expression goes dark. Nicole swallows, but she stays at the table.

He’s only going to get angrier when he reads what she’s written.

* * *

Aunt Gus sends Wynonna with Waverly to the pageant set-up. “Your sister will need your help,” she says to Wynonna, when Wynonna tries to get out of it. “I remember what it was like when Willa was in the pageant.”

So Waverly’s got Wynonna tagging along behind her when they arrive at the school. The pageant’s held in the gym/cafeteria/theater, and there’s volunteers setting up chairs. 

As for a changing room — not exactly something Purgatory High normally has. There’s a room off the stage, though, and it’s been cluttered up with card tables and rolling dress racks and an assortment of cracked and water-spotted mirrors that Waverly’s never seen before.

Wynonna stakes them out a mirror by the stage, setting down Waverly’s makeup bag and hanging her costumes on a nearby rack. 

Waverly thought she was getting there early, but most of the other tables are filled. She looks around — Chrissy’s there, brushing Steph’s hair to a glossy sheen by a table at the far end of the room. Both the tables next to them are filled, or Waverly might go down there and join them. The other contestants have sisters and mothers with them, helping them with makeup and hair.

Nicole’s not there. Waverly isn’t looking for her (she tells herself) but she can’t help but notice that she’s not there. 

“So what now?” Wynonna asks. She’s standing behind Waverly in the mirror. “Do you need me to do your hair?”

Waverly meets her eyes. “Really?” They both know that Waverly's way better at doing her own hair than Wynonna is at doing anyone's hair.

Wynonna flops down into the folding chair, legs spread apart. “I don’t know what Gus thought I’d be needed here for.”

“You can go help set up chairs,” Waverly says, and then laughs when Wynonna scrunches her face up. “Seriously, though, it’s good having someone here. You can be my moral support.”

“Fine,” Wynonna says, but she’s sitting easier in the chair. 

Waverly takes one more look around the room for Nicole, and then gets busy with her hair.

* * *

By the time Nicole arrives at the school for the pageant, the audience is starting to fill up the folding-chair seats, and there’s music pumping over the sound system. Something thumping and loud that Nicole doesn’t recognize.

She grabs the last table open, right by the door, and pulls her character shoes out of her bag. She’s already wearing the costume for the first number, under a hoodie.

The other contestants have obviously been here for hours, and Nicole spots Wynonna and Waverly a few tables down. Waverly’s staring into the mirror, fixing her makeup, even though as far as Nicole can tell, there’s nothing wrong with it. 

Nicole runs a brush through her hair and decides to hope for the best. She knows it’s not pageant-worthy, but she was never going into this to win.

* * *

Waverly expected to stumble her way through the first number. It’s the number that involves actually dancing, or at least as much actual dancing as the Stone Witch expects out of the back row. But it turns out that if you get drilled on something three times a week for weeks on end, you can get through it without too much pain.

The stage lights are bright. She can’t see anyone in the audience — not even Wynonna or Gus, who she knows are out there. 

She can’t see Damian Haught, either, which makes her wonder. She’s still planing on her original talent — the presentation about the werewolves of the Ghost River Triangle. Because they have nothing to hide. 

Waverly and the rest of the contestants shuffle off-stage in the approved manner, and the backstage area is suddenly pandemonium as everyone tries to get changed and repair their hair and makeup for talents. 

Steph goes first. The Stone Witch asked for volunteers, and Steph volunteered, because she wanted to make sure that everyone else was getting measured to her standard. It’s probably good strategy, Waverly thinks, as she checks her makeup in the spotted mirror. Steph all over. She’s always been one to go straight for the jugular. Straight for the kill.

From the backstage area, they can just hear Steph’s music and a wild flurry of noise from her tap shoes. The crowd seems to enjoy it — there’s a roar of applause that might be louder than the one for the group number. 

Waverly’s talent is about halfway through, and as she approaches the stage, she’s just hoping that the AV club isn’t going to drop her presentation and leave her up there without any slides. She’s not doing a separate costume for her talent, like Steph and Chrissy (who is lip-syncing, much to Steph’s amusement). 

From the stage, Waverly can just make out the judges in the front row. She takes a deep breath and asks for the first slide. 

“I’m Waverly Earp,” she says, and behind her nervousness, she’s wishing she were giving this presentation to Nicole again. “I’m going to talk to you about the history of werewolves and the Ghost River Triangle.”

* * *

From the backstage area, Nicole can just make out Waverly’s speech.

It’s good. She’s made some updates since she gave the speech to Nicole, and Nicole wonders if that’s because Waverly expected Damian Haught to be in the audience. Maybe expected Damian Haught to use some of her research in his book.

Totally understandable, if so. It’s exactly the sort of thing Nicole's father would do.

Nicole listens to the presentation until Waverly finishes, and then she ghosts back to the changing area to get into her own gown, so Waverly won’t have to see her when she comes back from the stage.

Most of the contestants chose to wear a different costume for their talent and the final promenade and judging of gowns. Nicole’s the last one to perform, though, and she’s never been big on lots of costume changes anyway.

* * *

Waverly sees Nicole as she goes by on her way to the stage.

She’s wearing the purple dress. The one Waverly liked best — the one that makes her look like some sort of Greek goddess. 

The sight of Nicole in the dress makes Waverly ache to be back in Nicole’s bedroom. Back before she knew anything about Nicole’s history. About Nicole’s father. Back when she could reach up and kiss Nicole as much as she wanted.

She listens as Nicole starts to sing. It’s a simple song, and Nicole’s chosen to have no backup, but it’s lovely. Even against the sounds from the dressing room, Nicole’s voice brings a lump into Waverly’s throat.

There’s a pause when Nicole finishes the song, and then applause. Enthusiastic applause. Nicole might not be from Purgatory, but she’s won the audience over. 

When Nicole walks back to the dressing room, Waverly’s still standing there, still with a lump in her throat. She meant to do one last makeup check but she’s still standing here. 

Nicole down at her, cautiously. 

“Hey,” Waverly says, and then she has to clear her throat. “You sounded….”

“Was it okay?” Nicole asks, like she’s actually wondering.

“You sounded amazing,” Waverly says. She’s not sure what else to say then, though. Nicole’s standing there in _that dress_ and Waverly knows she’s supposed to stay mad, but after a week of looking at photographs of a sad Nicole, she’s not sure if she can.

She’s not sure if she should.

“Ladies!”

The Stone Witch has entered the dressing room, and Waverly takes a step back from Nicole. 

_Right_ , Waverly thinks, _we’re in a pageant_. She gets shuffled back into her place in line by the other girls, and then they’re heading on for the final gown judging competition.

This is the easy part, but Waverly’s distracted and she gets shoved by Steph at least twice before she remembers that it’s her turn to walk out onto the stage and do her posing before the judges. 

She still can’t see anyone in the audience. She smiles, at nobody, and then steps back for the next contestant to show off her bouffant magenta party dress to the judges.

* * *

When they call the top ten contestants, Waverly and Nicole end up together in the line.

It’s not like both of them making the top ten is a surprise — there’s only nineteen contestants in the pageant. But Waverly can’t stop feeling Nicole there, at her shoulder. It’s the closest she’s been to Nicole since she found out about Nicole’s father. Since the fight. 

On Waverly’s other side, Chrissy looks nervous and Steph looks like this is just another successful step in her plan for invasion. 

One of the judges is standing in front of the podium now, talking about the importance of Purgatory’s young women. It’s the same crap Waverly’s heard every year.

“Fourth runner up,” the judge says. “Miley Perkins!” 

Miley’s at the far end of the line, so Waverly and Nicole just have to clap while she walks up to receive her flowers and a small envelope. Probably a gift certificate to the hardware store, based on past years’ prizes. 

Chrissy gets called as third runner up, and Waverly pulls her into a hug before she goes up. The Stone Witch drilled them on this — pageant etiquette, hug the contestants on either side of you before you accept the prize. Chrissy looks — happy? Surprised? Waverly knows she wasn’t expecting much out of this, especially with the way Steph’s been talking about her talent. 

After Chrissy gets her flowers and envelope, she goes to stand next to Miley in the winners' area. 

Lauri Mendez is called as the second runner up, which is when Waverly figures she and Nicole are both out of it, and just as well, too.

“And the first runner up,” the judge says. “A young lady who will be going places! Miss Waverly Earp!”

Waverly’s not sure what to do, for a moment, and then Steph pulls her into a hug.

“This had better mean I won,” Steph whispers into Waverly’s ear, and Waverly laughs before letting go and turning to Nicole.

Nicole. She meets Waverly’s eyes with half a smile. “Congrats,” she says.

Waverly’s frozen there, for a moment, not wanting to take the step forward but wanting to hug Nicole, to hold Nicole, more than anything, even if it’s just for a moment on a stupid pageant stage. 

But she feels Steph’s hand on her back before she can figure out what to do. “Get up there,” Steph whispers, and Waverly holds Nicole’s eyes for a moment longer before she goes.

It’s bright up on the front part of the stage, and Waverly finds herself blinking furiously at the audience she can’t see. But she knows Gus and Wynonna are out there, because she can hear Wynonna cheering. 

The judge hands her a huge bouquet, bigger than the earlier bouquets. It’s made up of the same sort of supermarket roses Champ got her. Her envelope’s the same size as the other contestants.

“Congratulations, Miss Earp,” he says, and then she’s walking away, over to join Chrissy and Lauri and Miley at the front of the stage. Chrissy grabs her hand as soon as she’s there and Waverly lets herself lean up against her, an anchor in a confusing whirl of sounds.

“And your winner!” the judge announces. “This year’s Miss Purgatory! The young lady who best exemplifies the values and qualities of the Ghost River Triangle.” He keeps talking, while Chrissy and Waverly hold on to one another and their flowers.

“It’s going to be Steph,” Chrissy says, and Waverly nods. 

“Your new Miss Purgatory,” the judge says. “Miss Stephanie —”

Steph’s packed the audience friends and family, so the roar from the crowd takes away her last name. She hugs the girls on either side of her and walks up, a queen for her coronation. 

Waverly watches while she takes the flowers (an enormous bouquet — the Stone Witch must have bought out two supermarkets) and the judge places the crown on her head. She comes to stand at the front of the stage while the crowd applauds.

_So that’s over with_ , Waverly thinks. And she’s not sure how she feels.

* * *

Backstage is chaos as contestants try to find their clothes and makeup and meet with their families. Gus and Wynonna are there. Gus tells Waverly how proud she is, and Wynonna punches her, lightly, on the arm. “Knew you could do it, baby girl,” she says.   

“Not exactly like your year,” Waverly says. She smiles.

“Yeah, well.” Wynonna scrunches up her nose. “This isn’t exactly my scene. And I know it’s not yours either, but I’m proud of you. I’m glad you went in with your talents, instead of trying to fake something pageant-appropriate.” She trails off, and then looks over at Gus. “Anyway. We’ll meet you back at the ranch, unless you want to go get something at Shorty’s first?”

Gus smiles. “We’ll be at Shorty’s if you want to join us,” she says. She leans forward and kisses Waverly on the forehead. “Good job, sweetheart.”

Waverly stares at herself in the mirror once they’ve gone. No crown. Just a pile of flowers and a frothy dress. 

“Congrats,” someone says from behind her.

She looks up and sees Nicole, standing behind her in the mirror. 

Waverly’s mouth goes all cotton-y. “Thanks,” she says, without turning around.

“You deserve it,” Nicole says.

Waverly’s frozen for a moment longer, looking at Nicole, before she turns around. 

Nicole’s already changed into jeans and a t-shirt. She’s got everything packed up — dress bag, makeup, everything. 

“You wore the dress,” Waverly says, before she can stop herself. 

“Yeah.” Nicole’s meeting her eyes, but Waverly can’t read her face. 

_You should wear that dress for me._ Waverly can’t stop thinking about kissing Nicole, that first time, pressed up against her closet door. And she can’t stop thinking about all the photographs she saw, of Nicole looking sad and lost next to her father. 

Nicole doesn’t look like that now. Waverly can’t tell what she’s feeling. 

Waverly swallows. “You did great,” she says, instead of what she wants to say.

Nicole still looks — 

“There’s something I should tell you,” Nicole says. 

“Let me get changed?” Waverly’s not sure what Nicole could want to tell her but she does know that it’s probably not a conversation they want to have here in the thrown-together dressing room of Purgatory High.

In one of the changing cubicles, Waverly pulls on a skirt and top and starts feeling more like herself instantly. She lets her hair down, sighing with relief when the pressure on the top of her head eases. Her hair probably looks funny, with the hair product still trying to hold it up, but right now Waverly doesn’t care.

She stuffs her dress into its bag and then she’s back out at her table, packing everything into her backpack without paying much attention to how.

“There’s no rush,” Nicole says, but Waverly feels like there is.

Waverly should probably hug Chrissy and Steph one last time, but Steph’s surrounded by a group of admirers, and Waverly has other priorities. She slips out the door and Nicole follows behind her.

Outside, it’s dark and clear, but it’s not cold. The air tastes like spring. 

There’s a crowd of family and friends waiting — for Steph, for Chrissy, for the other contestants. Waverly nods to Sheriff Nedley, Chrissy’s dad. Waverly and Wynonna’s dad’s old boss. 

They’re past the crowd of friends and family before Waverly realizes who’s missing.

“Your dad didn’t come?” she asks. “Or did he —”

“That’s what I needed to talk to you about,” Nicole says, and Waverly looks over and out of the corner of her eye, she can see that Nicole’s smiling.

Waverly throws her stuff in the back of the Jeep, careless about the dress, and then turns back to Nicole. Her heart’s beating fast. She’s not sure what Nicole’s going to say, but she’s hoping. 

_Hoping_ so hard it hurts.

“So? What do I need to know?”

Nicole puts her bag down on the ground next to the Jeep and pulls out a sheaf of printed pages. “Here. Read this.”

Waverly feels like Nicole’s lost the plot, but when Nicole doesn’t say anything else, she leans up against the Jeep and starts reading. There’s just enough light from the street light. 

_Growing Up Haught_ , she reads. _Damian Haught’s daughter speaks out on her unusual childhood, the stories her father never told, and paranatural rights._

“What is this?” Waverly asks, looking up at Nicole.

Nicole grins. “Keep reading.”

By page two, Waverly’s opened the door to the Jeep so she can sit to read. She’s still facing Nicole.

She can’t believe Nicole’s father put her _through_ all this. Dragging his daughter all across the world to look for paranatural beings, and using her as a research tool when he found them. 

“He really did that?” she says at one point.

“Which part?” Nicole asks. It’s a fair question. 

“The thing about Olympus,” Waverly says, looking back down.

“Yeah,” Nicole says. “He did all of it.”

Which means the story about Nicole getting fairy-poisoning, and the story about the witch in Reseda who cursed them, and the story about the vampire’s research lab — those stories are all true too. Waverly feels ill.

She reaches out and takes Nicole’s hand, without looking back up from the pages.

The story about the mermaids is the main story, after all the chatty but horrifying anecdotes Nicole’s told in the earlier pages.

> _I had never met anyone quite like Laina, but I loved her family immediately. Her mom, her dad, her annoying little sister and her cousin who lived with them. They were the sort of family I usually only saw on sitcoms in hotels between Dad’s projects._
> 
> _They took the little human girl in without question, without even thinking about it. They extended their hospitality — their family — to include me, which included family trips. I think they could tell that the little human girl their daughter had befriended was lonely, and yearning for some family of her own._
> 
> _And my father betrayed them for it._

Waverly reads through the rest of it. Nicole’s writing is unflinching. She retells the original story, pulling out the parts her father ignored in his version, and then breaks down what happened to the mermaids next. The news and interviews. The political battle. The forced resettlement.

And finally, the apology. From Nicole, for all the harm she did to paranatural creatures by being a part of her father’s research over the years. (Her father’s paranatural tourism, Waverly thinks.)

Waverly feels tears forming in her eyes when she finally turns over the last page. 

“It wasn’t your fault,” Waverly says, finally, looking up from Nicole’s words. She squeezes Nicole’s hand.

Nicole quirks one corner of her mouth. “I’m not that great a person.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m not publishing this,” Nicole says. “I just showed it to my father and threatened to publish it. So he’d leave you alone.”

Waverly has to think for a moment. “Leave me alone, or leave us alone?”

“He’s packing right now to leave the Ghost River Triangle,” Nicole says. “No book on the werewolves.” She looks down at her feet. “I can’t make him leave anyone else alone. But at least I could make him leave here.”

“You —” Waverly puts the pages down and gets back up, dropping Nicole’s hand but getting closer to her. “You did that for us?”

“I did that for you,” Nicole says, low, and Waverly can’t _not_ kiss her.

The kiss is slow. Waverly’s using her lips to say all the things she couldn’t say before. Nicole’s hand at the side of Waverly’s face is infinitely gentle, like Waverly’s fragile and precious, and Waverly’s the one who pushes in, deepening the kiss.

Waverly’s not thinking. She’s breathing in Nicole, feeling Nicole. It’s the closest she’s felt to wolf form while wearing her human skin. Not thinking. Just reacting.

Just _being_.

Nicole’s the one who pulls back. “I’m really sorry,” she says, again. “I should have told you.” She swallows. “I should have warned you.”

“And I should have listened to you last week,” Waverly says, leaning back in. She’s got a week of not kissing Nicole to make up for. 

She’s so focused on Nicole, on Nicole right here in front of her, Nicole _with_ her.

And then she remembers, and there’s a sick feeling in her stomach.

Nicole’s father is packing. Packing to leave the Ghost River Triangle.

Waverly pulls back and brushes Nicole’s hair back from her face. She’s not sure if she can ask. She’s not sure _how_ to ask. Her chest is tight.

Nicole notices, immediately. “Waves? What’s wrong?”

Waverly already figured this was the deal, back when she was angry at Nicole and furious at her father and trying to figure out what came next. Either Nicole and her dad left, and there’d be no book about the Ghost River triangle, but Waverly would lose Nicole. Or Nicole and her dad stayed, and Waverly would get to spend at least another year with Nicole, but there’d be a book coming out at the end of it.

It’s not a good deal but Waverly would be lying if she said she didn’t think about exposing Damian Haught to the Pack just to keep his daughter in town.

“It’s just.” Waverly shakes her head. “I’m really going to miss you.”

“Miss me?” Nicole runs her hand through Waverly’s hair, smoothing out the tangles. “Why?”

“You’re going with your father, right?” And it’s going to hurt like falling off a bridge. Like falling in love.

But Nicole doesn’t look like — “Hey,” she says, brushing her thumb along Waverly’s chin. “You really think my father would take me with him after that article?”

“He’s not?” Hope blooms in Waverly’s chest. “Really?”

“I called my aunt.” Nicole shrugs. “After I showed Dad this and after he got really pissed and — anyway. She says she’s willing to let me draw on the college trust my mom left me, so I can stay in Purgatory and do my senior year of high school here.”

Waverly looks at her for a moment and then punches the air. “YES.” She hugs Nicole and if she weren’t the shorter of the two of them, she’d be picking her up in the air and spinning her.

“Really?” Waverly asks, breathlessly, after she lets Nicole go. “Really, you promise?”

“They’re working it out now,” Nicole says. “I mean, I’ll probably need to find an apartment or something….”

“Shorty has a place,” Waverly says. It’s tiny but she knows it’s up there. “Or I’ll make Aunt Gus invite you. Or Wynonna can have you out at the Homestead.” There’s a million ways to keep Nicole here and now that she has the opening, Waverly is going to find one.

“So you want me to stay?” Nicole asks. 

She’s got that little smile on her face. The one Waverly wants to look at, every day, hopefully until the end of all time. 

_How can you even ask that,_ Waverly thinks, as she wraps her arms around Nicole.

“Yes,” she says, into Nicole’s shoulder. “Yes. I want you to stay.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who's read, commented, and kudos'd! I had a lot of fun writing it and I'm very happy it found readers. :)


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